Branches Of A Tree
by Cryssy-miu
Summary: AU: The Lost Boys were all Peter Pan ever needed, or so he told himself. Henry was never supposed to be much more than a convenient tool, but the boy soon finds the child means much more to Neverland and to his own heart as well. A friendship can be hard to maintain when you have the family that Henry does. But maybe, that family can become part of your own. Peter/Charming family.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Well I'm finally ready to try this out! It's been in the works for a while, and I've gained the confidence to post it! This is based off a role play with a darling friend of mine, and I'll have a lot of ideas that are simply mine as well as hers. This takes place in an AU of which Peter Pan is not Rumple's father (much as I loved the twist) and is indeed the boy that never grew up. Takes place in a different universe where Henry's life isn't needed for Pan's, but just his presence to keep the island and everyone on it alive. I hope you enjoy it!)_

* * *

_"What are you doing here?" It's the first thing Henry managed to blurt, his eyes wide and his limbs shaking. Despite the pasty white paleness of the boy's face, Peter could see the pure black hate in those normally soft hazel eyes._

_The teenager wasted no time in launching himself through the window, and Henry wasted no time in scrambling backwards to put some distance between them. The boy searched for a weapon, and his hands clambered until he found a pencil. He hastily lobbed it at the teenager._

_Peter blinked as the thing bounced off his chest. He looked almost amused. Before Henry could find something bigger to throw at him—or worse—alert any of his family, Peter struck out his hand and trapped Henry in a field of paralyzing magic._

_The boy had the nerve to look apologetic as he paralyzed him. "Apologies Lad, but I couldn't very well have you making a racket now, could I?" He walked up to Henry, so he was standing in front of the lad. Henry couldn't say a thing, but his hateful eyes did all the talking._

_Peter knelt down to the boy's level. "Will you be quiet if I let you go? If you don't I'll freeze you again." The twelve year old gave a hesitant nod. Peter instantly released him._

_"What do you want from me?" Henry demanded, his voice shaking with frustration and panic. He never knew what he was wanted for. He was never told—by anyone. Peter dropped vague clues; something about his belief saving magic, and Neverland. Henry had trusted him, but then he found his family, his Dad, and all of Peter's lies came into light._

_"Neverland is in danger without you, boy." Melodramatic as it sounded, it was true. And Henry only snorted, staring the teenager down dubiously. "I don't believe you. I don't believe anything you say. Why should I? All you ever did was lie to me."_

_"Not about everything," Peter said. As a response, he pulled the drawing of Henry from his pocket. The moment he handed it to the boy, it was crumpled, and hurled back into his face. His stomach twisted angrily and painfully as he un-crumpled it and shoved it back into his pocket._

_"I lied to get you to stay with me. I lied so you'd never leave Neverland; so you'd give up believing people were coming for you. Everything I did was for Neverland though! I needed your help."_

_Henry glared at the older boy, hatred burning with every word he spoke. "Why should I help you? You took me from my family, you threatened my family, and you lied about everything—even about your own name!"_

_"It's not about just helping me," Peter began harshly, matching the boy's glare. "It's about the lost boys." He watched Henry's eyes soften, and he knew he found his weak spot. "And all of Neverland. It is a land that runs off belief; it's where our magic comes from. Without it, what do you think happens to us? We die, and all the land does too. I know you care about the boys. They never lied to you. They were your friends. You can't just let them die. They need you."_

_Henry's anger was undeterred and Peter summoned up a wilted, black thing. Peter held it out, and somehow Henry recognized it. "This is a Neverflower. You've seen them blooming in the jungle. A patch of them are beginning to wilt. It's because belief is dying. Magic is dying. We need you."  
_

_Henry hated Peter even more for trying to guilt him, because it was working. "You think I want to come back after what you did to me?"_

_Peter was obviously prepared for this. "I won't keep you, I promise. Neverland needs you to come and make frequent visits in order for it to live, but you don't have to stay there." At this revelation, rage lit up in the kid's eyes._

_"Why did you imprison me then?" Henry demanded, and Peter growled. They weren't getting any where like this._

_"The island, the boys need you." He looked desperate, holding his heart sincerely. "Henry, lad, I promise I'm not going to keep you prisoner. I'll take you right back in the morning. We just need you to come see us. If you don't believe me, the boys will make sure I take you back."_

_Henry glared at the teenager, because he could see that familiar, sickening look in Peter's eyes. "And you're going to force me to, aren't you." The teenager's eyes glinted threateningly.  
_

_"I have magic."_

_Henry wasn't at all surprised, but it didn't make him any less angrier. "If you were going to force me to go with you anyway why did you _ask_ if I wanted to come?"_

_"To see if you'd come willingly."_

_Henry weighed his options. There weren't many of them. Peter was intent on making him go with him, and he had magic and could paralyze him. He could even hurt him. Henry thought of the boys, and that's what made him look up at the older boy._

_"You don't have to force me with magic. I'll go willingly." Peter's grin was impossibly wide, until Henry said the next part. "But on one condition, and one condition only."_

_"And what's that, Henry?"_

_The boy's eyes narrowed with hate and disgust. "That I never have to see _you_ again."_

_Peter's eyes widened, and he felt a stab of hurt even though he had no right to feel it. "I have to come get you every night though."_

_"Fine," Henry said. "But that's it. You take me to Neverland, to the boys, and leave me. I don't want you to ever talk to me or try to spend time with me. I don't want you to look at me."_

_Peter felt his chest tighten and his mouth formed a hard, cold line. "Fine."_

* * *

_"You cheated."_

_"I did not!" Peter gaped, affronted by the accusation. As a response, Henry held up the arrows he had shot. The rods had clearly been replaced with weak, spindly little twigs, and had snapped the moment they hit their target. Peter could hardly contain his laughter, stomach shaking._

_"You should think about replacing those arrows, boy." He laughed harder when Henry tossed down the arrows and then proceeded to storm off in a huff. His laughter ended abruptly when Henry left him, disappearing through the swinging branches of the bushes._

_Peter sighed as he pursued, the smile still on his face despite the fact it was starting to turn guilty. He forgot how much Henry hated cheating. It was just a little joke. "Lad, come on. I was playing. Henry-" He cut off as the branches were suddenly pulled aside and Henry emerged, triumphant looking. Peter wondered why until he realized two of the oldest boys were with him._

_"What by the gods?" He stepped back with a yelp as one of them tossed a small stone at him. He glared. "Wells!"_

_Wells and Hunter smirked as they backed their leader up. Henry just grinned because he knew his friend wasn't in any real danger. "Heard you've been cheating again, Pan." They approached him with their swords and clubs and took deliberately slow swings that they knew the boy could avoid._

_"I merely livened up the game," Peter began, yelping as he was very lightly clubbed upside the head. "Ouch!" He tumbled backwards out of target range and used it as a chance to summon up his own sword in a flash of magic. He clashed it against the boys' swords with a playful sneer. "You don't want to start this with me, lads."_

_He tried to be angry, tried to snap at them, but it was Henry's evil smirk that wore him down to laughter as he wrestled with his oldest lads, and eventually found himself on his back with the swords mockingly pointed at him. "I give, I give!" He stared wide-eyed at the sharp points, and the boys smirked and withdrew. Peter scowled at Henry's victorious little smirk as he pulled himself up off the ground._

_"You told on me."_

_"You cheated," Henry grinned a cheeky grin that only he could get away with when it came to the devious teen. "Someone had to put you in line."_

_"I'm the leader, you insubordinate boy! No one gets to put me in line!" But he was smirking through that poorly fabricated angry scowl._

_The two boys shared a smile that had become a more frequent thing as the months and many nights went by. The first terms of their deal were long forgotten by now. Henry's hatred was unyielding for a while; until he found Peter alone in a tree one night, when there was a party going on below and the night was cold. No one should be alone in that, Henry knew._

_"I'm surprised you didn't just try to fly or something," Henry told his friend, and was surprised by the way he stiffened. "With pixie dust or something? Pan?"_

_"Pixie dust has been in short supply, unfortunately," Peter said. "Not entirely sure why. It's been concerning. As you know, it's my only means of getting to you."_

_Henry stared at him. "So how am I supposed to get to Neverland now then?"_

_Peter didn't say anything for a moment, obviously thinking. Then he made his way to a tree of all things, and knocked something down. An acorn rolled to Henry's feet, and Peter scooped it up. The boy dragged a hand over the small nut, and golden light dappled down on it._

_Henry gazed down as his friend gently pressed the acorn into his hand. It glowed a golden hue for a brief moment, and then it faded. He pocketed the thing, failing to notice the miniscule crack in it. "An acorn? Is that what's supposed to solve the transportation problem?"_

_"A charm, actually," Peter told the lad. "It's enchanted. It has the ability to travel to one land, and the land that it's connected to. It'll take you to Neverland when ever you want." His expression became more solemn. "You'll need to come frequently, or Neverland will be in quite a state without you."_

_Henry nodded in understanding, although he didn't really understand it at all. Peter told him bad things would happen if he didn't frequently visit Neverland, but he never specified. Henry was beginning to wonder if he even knew what the outcome would be._

_"But why do I have to come here? You always come to get me."_

_Peter nodded. "I know, but I can't for the time being. It's probably for the best anyway; it was only a matter of time before one of your family members woke up and found me in your room, or you gone. Surprised they haven't. Then again, your family sleeps like rocks."_

_Henry rolled his eyes and gazed down at the charm. It wasn't glowing anymore. "So how do I use it then? Do I need magic to do it?"_

_Peter shook his head. "All you need is your truest believing heart." He must not have phrased that well enough because Henry quirked a playful grin._

_"So what do I do then, just fuse it with my heat or something?" Peter smirked._

_"No, you simply believe. Just imagine yourself in Neverland, and you'll be there."_

_Henry looked at his friend, his expression rather stunned and a little warm. "You trust me to come back on my own?" It had been nearly four months now since Peter had hiked himself through his window that one night, and Henry knew without a second thought that he'd always keep returning to Neverland. The fact the boy trusted him though said a lot. Henry wasn't about to let him down either._

_"Well I suppose I'll have to," Peter said, expression tight. "Because I have no other alternative. But I know what the boys mean to you, and what Neverland means to you. You wouldn't abandon them."_

_Henry nodded earnestly. "You're right, I wouldn't."_

_"Now..." The older boy grinned and gestured back to the jungle, where the makeshift targets were still waiting with the bows on the ground. "Shall we get back to our match? I've only hit two bulls-eyes so you still have a fair shot."_

_Henry raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'd probably have a better shot if you'd stop replacing my arrows with joker ones."_

* * *

Henry sighed as he tossed his backpack by the door. He knew he was late coming home, and Peter was gonna be mad. Henry wouldn't be surprised if he already went home. He probably had. The boy sighed and prepared an apology for his lateness, which he hoped he'd accept.

Peter was glaring at him through the glass and Henry winced apologetically. "You're late."

The twelve year old pulled at the window, and groaned when he remembered his grandfather had fixed the screen from Peter having popped it right out one night. He wrenched at the sash, finally throwing it above him. He paid no mind to the glue as he moved to help his best friend in.

"Bet you'll be glad when you can use the door?" Henry teased as he moved to pull the older boy in. Peter only laughed.

"Entering by door is overdone," Peter scoffed as he hiked himself through the window. "And it's not often the way you let your enemies in."

"You're not my enemy," Henry reminded him warmly. Peter patted his back fondly, but he didn't smile. "I am your family's enemy though."

"Not for long!" the kid promised with a smile. "Once my family has seen that you've changed—you're better, and that you're not going to hurt anyone anymore, then they'll trust you. It might take time, but they'll give you a second chance."

The kid's unending optimism both frustrated him and lifted his spirits. "We'll see." He swung his other leg into the window and was stopped by an invisible force. The first thing Peter feared was some sort of magic barrier had been put up...but judging by the twitching grin on Henry's face, that wasn't what it was.

"Are you stuck in the glue?"

"Apparently," he muttered, and Henry laughed. The teen just scowled. "Stop your laughing and help me in!"

"On the count of three," Henry said, taking a gentle hold of his best friend's hands. He started to tug, grunting as the glue repelled against them. A few more tugs, and he nearly fell back laughing at Peter's frenzied comment.

"Wait, I think my pants are coming down!" He glared at the boy in the darkness as Henry only laughed harder. "Be quiet!" This day-night was getting off to a perfect start, he bitterly mused, yelping as his friend changed tactics and tried tugging him in by his collar instead.

"Do we count this as a bad omen?" Peter joked, half serious and half toying. It was the most sensitive night of "Operation Fox Ears"-as Henry so adorably named it-yet. It was supposed to be the night where they finally planned the big reveal of their friendship, having dropped dim little hints in the past few weeks. Emma was still looking for her leather jacket, that Henry didn't have the heart to confess had accidentally flown away in an attempt to scatter pixie dust. The family seemed blind to their little clues; Henry's drawings of Neverland, and the dust casually sprinkled about places.

"No, we count this as a little set back, but nothing that's gonna stop us." He pulled more at Peter's arms, but the glue was relentless in its grip, intent to keep the boy stuck to the windowsill.

"Well Lad, we could simply plan our grand scheme from the window here. The breeze is nice. ...Henry?" His friend didn't respond. "What is it, boy?" From his position, Peter wasn't able to see what was going on, but light poured in and stung his eyes. His eyes roved up, and a block of ice hit his stomach as his gaze fell on the frozen forms of Emma and Neal at the door.


	2. Chapter 2

_(A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Did everyone have a good New Years Eve? I'm so pleased with the reception this story has gotten so far. I already have quite a few followers of the story and a few reviews! Keep 'em coming, they make me happy! I had someone ask if this is a Panry fic and it's not. I do admit I kinda like the pairing to some extent, but in this one they're strictly friends, like a big brother and little brother. Please don't ask if they're going to kiss or do something at any point because I don't plan on that happening._

_Lastly I go back to college tomorrow so scheduled updates from now on will be determined. I'll never abandon this fic though. Enjoy~! Next chapter [I know I'm a bit late...] takes place during Christmas!)_

* * *

_Pixie dust had become scarce but Peter in all honestly had no idea what this would entail. Losing the magic in Neverland was always a possibility. Sometimes at night the boys would gather about the fire and tell little tales—horror stories of what they thought a magic-less Neverland would be like, but no one really knew._

_Peter never knew, he had only predicted. The boys and him would grow old as time started up again and they'd lose their youth. Some of the inhabitants of the island would die out, as they were magical beings. They'd lose things like pixie dust, their magic water—Neverland would lose its essence._

_But Peter, in all his days, could never have predicted that this would be the outcome. He stood there on the cliff he usually brought Henry to on the darkest nights to marvel at the stars scattered across the black night. The stars seemed to have faded from their place in the sky and Peter had to wonder if it was the clouds obscuring them, or another effect of the dwindling magic._

_He hadn't seen Henry in months, but he never gave up faith. It could have been a varied number of reasons. Peter knew well enough about the kid's life to know that something was always going on, and not usually anything good. The boy was caught up in everything, Peter figured. He'd get to them. He gazed sadly down at the striped scarf he had wrapped around his neck. Henry's scarf; the scarf he given him to borrow one night when it was cold. Peter never had a chance to return it._

_"You'll come back..."_

You have the charm. You have the stupid acorn and I told you how to use it! Why haven't you shown up? Why haven't you saved us?

_"Pan?" The leader turned to find one of his boys, Gabe, on the cliff beside him. He had a small bundle in his arms. The bundle was sick, and very recognizable._

_"Tootles?" Fear struck the teenager's heart as he took one of his youngest into his arms and gazed down at him. "What by the gods happened, Gabe? He looks like he just ingested an entire vine of Dreamshade." His eyes widened as he thought of the child's habit of getting into trouble. "He hasn't, has he?"_

_"No, no, he hasn't. Wells made sure of it." Gabe gently touched the little boy's forehead. Tootles only whined and pulled away from the warm fingers that agitated his flushed cheeks. "We aren't sure what's wrong, but it's happening to many of the boys. Tootles is just getting it the most severe."_

_Peter's throat tightened in fear and he looked back down at the lethargic boy. "Put him to bed," he ordered. "Try to keep him away from the other boys. We don't want them to catch whatever the boy's got. Monitor him." He tried not to show his concern as Gabe's words did another run through his mind. _"It's happening to many of the boys..."

* * *

Emma and Neal were absolutely silent as Peter hung there stuck to the window by his pants. The situation was almost too hysterical to possibly be real. Peter rolled his eyes when Henry stepped out in front of him, as if he thought that would make him turn invisible.

Peter struggled desperately and kicked his legs in the open window. He was bound there by the sticky residue of the glue—bound and completely vulnerable. Panicked, he reached into his pocket and extracted his dagger, cutting between the fabric and the glue. A large patch missing from the front of his pant leg, he pulled himself through the window.

Emma and Neal stood in a protective stance and Neal had somehow acquired a sword from somewhere in Henry's room. "What the hell are you doing here, Pan?" Neal growled, his tone dangerously low.

Peter knew he needed to tread carefully here; they were walking on eggshells and one wrong move could shatter them. It was his only chance and it was one he couldn't afford to mess up. Unfortunately, old, poisonous habits were hard to break—especially in the face of his old playthings. He smirked, strutting around and being stupid enough not to put the dagger away.

"Hello, Orphan, Baelfire. It's been a while." Henry just stared at him in horror.

"What are you doing?!"

That was enough initiative for Emma and Neal to make a move and in a second Emma had grabbed Henry. Neal had Peter against the wall with the blade to his throat. Henry pleaded no, but Peter wasn't even focused on the blade threatening to carve open his throat. He was just staring desperately at Henry.

The cruel glint the parents were accustomed to faded from the teen's eyes. He became less like Pan and more like the child that had come to Neverland; the one that was afraid to be alone and lose his best friend. "Wait!" His voice shook slightly. "D—don't take him from me..."

Neal and Emma's sharp eyes narrowed in confusion at him. Henry broke away from his mother's grasp to stand in front of Peter. He clasped his friend's hand. Peter blinked at him in confusion, but he gripped back tightly.

"He's not here to hurt anyone," Henry told his family pleadingly and Neal gestured wildly to the knife. Henry hissed at Peter to put it away so the boy begrudgingly shoved the weapon back into his pocket.

Emma cautiously neared the two and tried to pull her son gently away, but Henry stayed firmly clung to his friend. "He's not here to hurt _anyone_, Mom. Not you or Dad."

"Henry's right," Peter said, gripping the kid's hand to give him strength. "I only came to see him." He debated for a moment, before deciding to just come out with it. "Like we had been, every night for a year."

"A YEAR?" both Emma and Neal shouted simultaneously. Peter snickered and Henry winced. "Yes, a year."

Neal looked like he was about to impale the teenager and Emma surprisingly was the one that wasn't moving. She was seemingly in shock, a sickened look on her face. Peter simply looked pleased as peaches and that's what made Neal want to drive the blade into his skull even more. It was the desperate eyes of his son beside the boy demon that stopped him.

"Look, Mom Dad, I'm not asking you to believe in him," Henry began in earnest. "But at least believe in me." Neal and Emma's eyes became soft and sympathetic. "Kid," Emma began in that pitying voice.

"No!" Henry all but shouted. "Just _listen_ to me!" He hated when they did this, looking all sympathetic and feeling bad because they didn't think he knew what he was talking about. Henry_ knew_ what he was talking about. He _knew_ he was right.

"A year ago everyone thought the same about my mom, _Regina_," Henry clarified. "No one thought she could change..." His eyes lowered for a moment. "Not even me... but she has and—and we're all gonna spend Christmas together! She and Grams are even gonna cook dinner together. If you could all give her a chance then why not Peter?"

Neal and Emma didn't respond, but they looked at each other and Henry knew that usually meant he was starting to break them. Finally, they sat down, Neal resting his arm on the hilt of his sword. "Three minutes," Emma growled to Henry's former captor. "You have three minutes."

* * *

_Plants took longer to grow in Storybrooke, Peter thought to himself as he gazed down at a small Neversapling he had given to Henry a year ago. It was covered by the snow and there wasn't a single leaf. By this point in Neverland you would at least see a brown sprout._

_He cleared away some snow and the thing looked wilted. Peter wondered if it was supposed to represent their friendship. He angrily swiped some snow back on the dying sprout and pulled himself up from the snow. He gazed up at the apartment and down at the final bit of dust in his vial. It was all that was left in Neverland and this was their last chance._

_He uncorked the vial and the last few sprinkles of dust sprinkled over his form. He lifted off the ground and flew up to the apartment, pulling himself up through the window. His eyes fell on the quiet and calm form of Henry laying there in his bed. Peter's heart twisted as he gazed down at the sleeping boy._

_It had only been a year, but he could still see evident physical changes in the boy's features. His face-his hair even. Everything was different about him, in just twelve months. Soon, Peter knew, he wouldn't even be able to come to Neverland once he aged enough._

_The child didn't look like he had been sleeping well. Guilt perhaps, Peter wondered with a sneer. He had books all over the bed and he couldn't make out the titles to any of them._

_He sat on the cool windowsill for the first few minutes and watched Henry stir on the bed. The boy's blue green eyes opened slowly and fell on the frozen, broken spirit at his window. "P...Pan?" His eyes sparkled with joy and he swung himself out of the bed. He ran to his best friend, but Peter took a step back immediately._

_"...Pan?"_

_"You never came back," was all the boy said, and in a chilling tone that made the boy bite his lip. Only now did the boy see how broken his best friend looked. He looked...haunted, the kind of look in his eyes that of a child waking from a nightmare would have._

_"I...I know I never came back," Henry stammered back quietly, reaching for the acorn. "I couldn't. It wouldn't-"_

_"Oh don't even TRY to make up some sort of excuse!" Peter snarled. "It's been a year! A year since you've shown up, shown any sign. A whole year since you abandoned us. And don't even try to make up any lies." His eyes darkened. "I could have sworn that's what you found so hard to forgive me for." Henry looked painfully at his friend, his eyes glistening._

_The teenager swallowed hard when it became slightly difficult to speak. "Why?" His voice broke slightly. "Why would you abandon us? You know what it's like to be abandoned. You know what it's like to be left and feel unloved. Why would you do the same to us?"_

_Henry gazed down at the small crack in the charm and ran his fingers over it. "I didn't mean to abandon you guys. I'm sorry."_

_That did it. The boy bared his teeth as his eyes went wild in the way Henry hoped was just a distant memory. _"Sorry?"_ he snarled. "Is that all you can say is that you're SORRY? You have no idea what we've been through, without you! What I've been through! The pain you caused by not returning-the state Neverland is in!"_

_Henry felt smaller and smaller with every word, but he still desperately pleaded for Peter to calm down in a trembling voice, before he woke up someone in the house. The boy didn't know what to say; his voice caught in his throat as his eyes shut difficultly. "I couldn't...the charm wouldn't work."_

_He pressed it in his friend's hand, and Peter's trembling fingers curled around it. He got ready to angrily hurl it at the wall and that's—that's when the boy felt something he knew shouldn't be there. A crack. Peter traced the tiny crevice, in a state of shock._

_Magical items were very delicate, especially charms as fragile as these. They wouldn't work if they had even the slightest imperfection...and so Peter knew immediately that the charm was defected. Henry's only means of getting to Neverland was entirely broken._

_Henry never forgot about them. Judging by the library books all from the Enchanted Forest (and having to do with magic, he suddenly realized), he had been trying to find a way to get back to them for the past year. It was Peter's fault...not the boy's. He gave him a broken charm. It was because of him they were suffering._

_Henry stared, rather stunned to see the moonlight catch the tears brimming in Peter's eyes...and starting to trickle down his cheeks. It was not the first time the teen had cried—especially in this past year, but it was the first time his friend had seen it. It just made Henry want to sink through the floor._

_"You never forgot about us."_

_"Well...yeah," Henry said gently, smiling at his friend. He was sure that was obvious. "How could I?" Who could forget the nights of flying with pixie dust over his town and Neverland, the Lost Boys, and...Peter Pan?_

_There were a thousand things Peter Pan wanted to say, but he was too speechless to get many of them out. He simply smiled and wiped his eyes as he fondly gripped his best friend's shoulder. "We've missed you, Lad."_

_Henry nodded with a gentle smile of his own. "Missed you guys too." The light, happy silence lingered in the air for a moment and then Henry hastily shrugged on his bag. "So, we should get going then, huh?" He grinned. Peter wasn't smiling back. He tensed. He had come to get the child and take him to Neverland with him, but he wished he didn't have to take him to a dying land they once called home. Before Henry could ask what was wrong, he shrugged it off.  
_

_"I don't know if that's a good...Sure Henry, let's go." Peter hovered a hand over the dysfunctional charm and magically healed the crack. His stomach twisted in anger and sickness. It was that easy to fix this and prevent what was happening now. All he had to do was look at the stupid charm before he gave it to the kid. It was all his fault... Peter shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell. He summoned them back to the island._

_The excitement on Henry's face vanished instantly as he returned to his second home. Horror gripped him and chilled him to the bone. Peter must have sensed it because he tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off._

_Henry didn't know what he expected Neverland without magic to look like...but this definitely wasn't it. The land was dead, withered away to nothing. It was a waste land almost and even the ocean looked sick. The Neverland skies that were always a pure blue brimming over with clouds had become a dull, lifeless gray. Even the air was chilly, making Henry pull his jacket close._

_"How...how did it get like this?" he whispered hoarsely. It had only been a year, hadn't it? It was fine when he had left. Everything had still been in full bloom and there was still the sounds of birds chirping and noises a jungle was supposed to make. "It was fine when I left...everything was fine!"_

_"It was," Peter said, "For only a little while. Pixie dust stopped growing, but it was when the spring started to dry up that things began to die. It fuels a lot of Neverland's magic." Skull Rock did as well. Quite honestly Peter had avoided that place as long as possible. He didn't want to see the hourglass that represented Neverland's dwindling life. "After a while many of the boys grew sick. We lost...several of them."_

_A numbness washed over Henry. "And it's...because of me," he mumbled thickly, his eyes blank. "It's because I never came back." Peter shook his head at him, but Henry tore away from him and bolted into the dying jungle._

_"Henry, stop!" Peter yelled as he gave chase. "Henry, come back! It's dangerous out there!"_

_The child had no idea where he was going and that's what scared Peter the most. He knew the lad well enough to know that when he did run, he seemed to do it blindly. In a dying Neverland now inhabited with hostile, sick creatures, that could lead to the boy's death._

_Henry wound up crashing into one of the boys and sent him crashing to the ground. He scrubbed away the tears in his eyes and grinned when he saw who it was. "Devin!"_

_The boy slowly rose from the ground and Henry's smile fell. He backed up a few wide steps instead as the utterly deranged teenager, sick with fever, got to his feet. Devin wildly swung a club that Henry was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be holding in his state. "YOU DID THIS!"_

_Henry cried out as the boy started thrashing at him with the club. He just narrowly dodged it and desperately tried to believe up a shield, but nothing would materialize. Neverland was sapped of its magic._

_Right before Devin brought the club down on his head Peter tackled him. The boy was so sick that he didn't even attempt to struggle and just gave in to the darkness. Peter rose, biting back sobs as he stared down at what his loyal friend had been reduced to. "He's alive—for now. Although it might be a mercy to just kill him now."_

_"Don't you dare!" Henry growled, his fists balling up._

_The ground trembled before he could say anything to Henry, and he grabbed a hold of the anguished boy, dragging him along. "We need to keep moving." He felt Henry try to pull back to Devin, but he wouldn't let him. "Henry, there's no time, the land is going to split! I-I'm sure he'll be fine!"  
_

_They lunged for the rocky cliff side. It was high enough above ground that it was safe from the cracking land, and low enough that they could still climb up to it. Henry stared in horror as parts of the island started to fall through and turned his head away from the tragedy._

_"Pan, wh-what do we do?" Henry whispered frantically. His eyes tore at the older boy's heart, frantically pleading for an answer he couldn't give. Peter merely watched helplessly as the land continued to crumble around them and pulled Henry along._

_"We need to get to the spring. The last of the magic is there-dwindling as it is. I kept most of the sick boys there as well."_

* * *

_Henry fell to the ground beside the spring and stared down at the shallow little pond. You used to be able to feel the magic radiating from the glistening water. Now, he felt nothing._

_"Wish," Peter ordered the boy desperately. "Wish for anything—don't make it big and impossible to grant. Just start wishing."_

_There was nothing on Henry's mind and nothing that he wanted. He just wanted Neverland better and the boys better. He closed his eyes and tried to believe a bottle of medicine in his hands. The spring wouldn't even give him a cough drop. "N-nothing is happening."_

_"Wish again!" Peter snapped. The boy shakily wished for an apple, just an apple. The spring granted him with nothing._

_Peter swore under his breath and turned away from the water, instead directing his attention to a clearing behind the vines. "I kept the sick boys up here, near the spring. There wasn't enough magic left in the water to heal them, but they were better off up here where the others wouldn't get sick and where they'd be by the last of Neverland's magic."_

_"And the boys...they're gonna be okay, right?" Henry asked shakily. "Now that I'm here? I can heal them, right?"_

_"I'm not sure, Lad... I can only hope so." He chopped away the vines with a dim sense of hope. Peter gazed at the still forms of the bundled teenagers and his heart stopped._

_"I've only been gone for a couple of hours..." Peter whispered and fell to his knees. "Just a couple hours." He just stared ahead without really seeing or hearing the frantic way Henry called his name. He gazed out silently at the bodies of boys. ...His boys. His boys, all dead. His boys were dead._

_"M-maybe they're just sleeping," Henry whispered, his naivety and innocence just making the tears continue to brim in his friend's eyes. He ran to the fallen boys' sides and searched desperately for a sign of life, a sign they were breathing—anything to say they weren't dead. There was no breath and their chests didn't rise.  
_

_The gray skies somehow became darker and more than the land they were standing on began to shake. The boys could hear the distant cracking of trees as the rest of Neverland began to fall apart. A tree fell right behind Henry and he sprawled out of the way just in time, watching it roll down the cliff._

_"There—there has to be something we can do!" Henry cried helplessly, struggling to be heard over the land as it died. "Why isn't my believing doing anything?"_

_"Because it's too late!" Peter choked out through a sob. "It's gone too far—it's too late to save everything. We have to get you home." He fumbled desperately for the charm. He wasn't going to let Henry die on the island with him. The charm wasn't even glowing anymore. It was just an acorn in a land without magic; same with the spring._

_Henry gazed at his friend in anguish and felt himself slowly sink down to his knees. The two boys looked helplessly around until their eyes fell on each other. Two lost boys, scared, alone, and staring death in the face._

"Big boys don't cry"_; that was the one solid, useful thing his father had drilled into him as he marred his skin with bruises and cuts. Tears were a weakness and only accomplished a wet, burning face and the pity of others. So Peter never cried. He made a solid vow never to cry and mocked or threatened any of the boys that ever did. He didn't feel like Pan anymore; he felt like Peter-the abandoned, abused, lost little kid that only sought out to make sure children didn't grow up the way he had. Then the darkness corrupted him and his motives became more sinister than that._

_Neverland was going to die, the boys were going to die...and Peter would be left with nothing, until the sickness took him as well. He'd wind up alone like he was probably always meant to be. Tear stung eyes looked over at the weeping boy on the ground who had started coughing, becoming sick.  
_

_If he and Henry were going to die in Neverland, it was going to be together. You never let your friend die alone._

_Peter reached down and pulled Henry up into his arms. The sobbing child buried into his chest. Peter had never been very good with hugs; if any of the boys needed some comfort he usually pushed them off to more compassionate boys to deal with. He must have been doing something right since the kid clutched to him like his life depended on it. Tears were a weakness and love was a weakness...but right now it was the only thing they had.  
_

_The child started violently wheezing and Peter did as well. It began to dawn on him where this mysterious disease came from: hopelessness. It was a curse, born from losing faith, and he had been the cause of it. Now it sought to take their lives as well.  
_

_The child in his arms was becoming slightly limp as he exhausted his air from sobbing and coughing. Peter could barely see through the tears streaming down his face, but he caught the blurred image of a dead Neverflower and picked it up. He sobbed as he delicately turned the withered thing over in his hand. He closed his hand over it and cupped it close to his heart, palm draping over where Henry had a fistful of his shirt._

_A glowing wave emanated from their forms. A pulse of white—warm and beautiful and so full of..._

_Peter and Henry slowly looked up and watched a white, shimmering wind ripple what was left of the trees, and across the ocean. For the first time in months, the sun poked out from the clouds and dappled rays down on the island, blanketing it in a brilliant, golden light._

_Henry gazed up at his friend through his tears and called him something other than Pan for the very first time. "...Peter?"_

_Peter rose as he gently released his friend and watched as it started to rain. No...that wasn't rain. It was green sparkles. Pixie dust. It was raining pixie dust. Henry reached out and caught a few particles in his open palm, grinning at his best friend. They had both stopped coughing. "It's pixie dust!"_

_"It is.." Peter whispered, awestruck. "It's pixie dust..." His eyes snapped open joyfully and he hugged the kid again. "Henry, you did it! We did it!"  
_

_Giggling, the boy returned the embrace and gasped over Peter's shoulder when he saw the several boys that had been laying dead (no, not dead—cursed!) open their eyes and looked around. Peter saw it too and he spun around to gasp joyfully, tearing up. "Boys!"_

_In two seconds the boys were all standing and within four they had dog piled Peter and Henry, crowding around the two boys as they laughed and struggled to get a breath being squished by their friends._

_"Yeah guys, I missed you too!" Henry assured his friends as they hugged him again._

_Peter wriggled outside of the circle of hugs and gazed down at the pixie dust in his hands, brushing the ethereal sparkles from his hair. He looked around and tried to figure out what the magic was. Peter had seen every form of magic done, from healing spells to dark curses...and he was stumped._

_The magic that had radiated from the both of them; it was pure white and pulsed out in a sudden wave mingled with a touch of rainbow, like it was shining through a prism. The magic had been warmer than Peter had ever felt before, filling him with a deep comfort and..._

_Slowly, Peter turned his head toward the group of laughing and talking boys. His eyes narrowed in on Henry and then they turned to look back at the island. His beautiful island that was their home, their haven—a place that he'd give his life for if he had to._

_"Peter!" The magic of True Love. True love for each other, their friends, and Neverland. All the love in his heart bursted for the frustrating little brat that made everything possible and changed all of their lives in the way that Peter thought he'd only dream of. He turned as Henry came bounding back to him happily._

_"I almost thought..." He grinned. "I almost thought this wouldn't even have a happy ending! Bet it'll make a pretty good story though!" He blinked as Peter just stared at him. "What, do I have something on my fa—HEY!" He laughed as his best friend suddenly grabbed him and flipped him over his shoulder, pounding his back to try and get away. "Hey, let go! Put me down!"_

_"Since when has ordering me around ever worked?" the teenager teased. "You want down, then best you try and get down yourself Lad!" He tightened his grip on the child's legs as Henry struggled and laughed, grabbing at his ankles. Pixie dust continued to rain down on the large, tight-knit family as the land around them continued to grow with renewed life._


	3. Chapter 3

_(A/N: Sorry it's been so long everyone! College does not give you much time to write fics. And when you do have time...you're mostly too drained to want to try! It's late given that Christmas has long since passed, but I hope you all enjoy it all the same. This fic is Peter/family but the primary relationship focuses are Peter and Henry and surprisingly Peter and Snow. You'll soon see why. Peter's past is also explored in this fic (a little past I made up), and why he's the way he is-in a lot of aspects. Hope you all enjoy it and next update time is rather...undetermined! Hopefully not a month! Don't be afraid to point out any mistakes. I edit it thoroughly before I post it but I always miss some...)_

* * *

All was silent for a few moments as Emma and Neal attempted to absorb what they heard. It was easier said than done as they watched their only son hold hands with the manipulative, seemingly soul-less boy that had attempted to ruin their lives only a year before.

"From then on, we started devising a plan to come out with everything," Peter said. "Tonight we were supposed to discuss what date we planned on you all actually discovering." He smirked and the adults' eyes narrowed. "Interesting coincidence, hm?"

"So wait, you expect us to believe that you saved the island with the most powerful magic of all," Neal began, "True Love? Between...you two?"

Peter made a face even as Henry nudged him in the ribs. "Well it sounds disgustingly saccharine when you put it that way." He nudged the kid back roughly and even that gesture made both tense parents look ready to leap on him. "But I...I suppose so."

They were both initially doubtful, but it was hard to claim the entire thing was nothing but a masquerade when both boys were gripping each other's hands for support and looked genuinely frightened...like they feared they'd be ripped apart forever. It probably _was_ what they feared.

Emma's fingers twitched and ached to grab her son and get him away from the villain, but when she took a step forward, the grip on each other's hands noticeably tightened.

"I'm not asking for a lot," Peter began quietly. "Just for you to hear me out. All I want is to keep seeing Henry." Their expressions darkened and he rushed on, desperate to get out what he wanted to say before they lost interest in the conversation.

"I'm not trying to take him from you—not anymore." He scoffed arrogantly. "And let's be honest, we both know if I was I'd have him by now. Child's play, really." Emma gritted her teeth and Henry kicked him. "I mean no harm—I just want to keep seeing my friend. I know the lot of you despise me so I'll even come at night so you never have to worry about seeing me. I'll come without any weapons as well if that's what it will take."

He was desperate to appease them, his confidence shaking at what was on the line. This was it, the final judgement. What they decided could potentially mean not only the end of his friendship with the boy, but the end of his life and Neverland's as well. There wasn't much he could do to fight back at this point. His magic was dwindling and any spell Regina or Rumple would likely use he wasn't able to counter.

"Please just..." He shut his eyes and the comforting grip on his hand tightened. "Just don't take him from me."

Neal and Emma exchanged looks and looked back at the boys. It seemed to take hours (when in reality it was less than two minutes) but at last Emma cleared her throat. "Alright, here's the truth. I don't trust you. Probably never will." Henry swallowed, gripping onto Peter's hand tight. "You took my kid away from me, and probably manipulated my whole…life, or whatever, as far as he goes. You and your Boys nearly got me and my entire family killed, and we barely made it back to Storybrooke in one piece on Hook's ship. Any chance you ever deserved got blown way out of the water as soon as Henry fell down that portal."

It felt like their hearts had fallen to the pit of their stomachs as their hands lost their grip on each other. Henry's eyes filled with tears and Peter started to tremble as he desperately scrambled to come up with a back-up plan. His mind was blank. He heard the child at his side sniffle but he was too numb to comfort him.

Emma continued,"But you want a shot? Fine, you got one. _One._ Twenty four hours and that's it. And you're gonna be here—right in the open, where all of us can see you. And if you screw up in _any way_ or hurt anyone, your ass will get thrown as far and hard as I can throw it right back to that island of yours."

Henry gasped in joy and Peter just stood there, stunned. "He's gonna be...here?" he whispered excitedly. "All day tomorrow? Really?!"

"Really," Emma responded stiffly. Henry turned his attention away from his parents to grasp his unresponsive friend's arm and give an adorable hop of excitement. "This is gonna be so awesome! You're gonna be with us all day! We're gonna be together and spend time together—and this means you'll even get to stay for dinner and maybe we can watch movies, and..." Another thought dawned on him and he practically squealed. "Wait—I can't believe I forgot! You get to celebrate with us!"

Peter's lips quirked up into a large, amused grin as he gripped his friend back just as happily. "Alright, but what are we celebrating?"

* * *

"So...what is this strange festivity called again?" Felix asked as he slapped several leaves onto the Neversap holding the 'wrapping paper together.'

"Christmas, apparently," Peter said offhandedly as he shook the dust out of an old sheet and made a make-shift bag out of it. "It's a winter festival I believe. Trees are strung with candles—uh, lights—and hung up somewhere in houses. Families exchange gifts and sing songs to the tree."

"They sing to the _tree?_ Do they think it can hear them?"

Peter snickered. "I suppose so. I don't understand much of the holiday, but if it's the only way to get into the family's good graces..."

The taller boy finished wrapping the gifts in leaves and tossed them into the sack. "So you're abandoning us in favor of a new family?" Felix's tone was teasing and sarcastic, but his eyes were sharp. He didn't like the fact his friend would be spending an entire day with another family.

Peter darkened at the playful jest and screwed up his face in disgust. "I don't give a damn for any one of the family members. Either one could plummet from a fifty foot cliff and I'd hardly give it a second glance. Henry is the one I care about—none of his party. This is only for Henry." Anything or Henry. Always for Henry.

Felix was taken aback. "I wasn't serious, Peter."

"The point of this," Peter continued, "Is to try and get on their good side; assure them I mean no harm and hopefully I can stop fearing for my life as well. It's vital that I don't screw this up." He tossed his blade—his only means of protecting himself—to the ground. "If I do, not only will we lose Henry..." His voice hitched slightly in fear of the possible outcome. "We could lose..."

"...Everyone," Felix finished gently. "Understood. How long will you be gone?"

"Hopefully not long," Peter said, both dreading any bonding sessions with Henry's family and eager to see his friend again. "I doubt I'll even be allowed to spend time just with Henry. One of his protectors will probably be breathing down my throat the entire time." He growled in annoyance and slung the bag up over his shoulder. "Tomorrow better be worth this." When did some tiny little brat ever start being worth so much trouble, he thought with an equal measure of annoyance and affection.

"Good luck then," Felix said with an awkward wave; as he always had whenever his friend went off on a mission. Peter nodded at him and then disappeared with the bag of gifts, hoping it'd be enough to get on the family's good side.

* * *

It was nearly eleven and there was still no sign of Peter Pan. Emma wasn't sure if she should count that as a curse or a blessing. Blessing that she didn't have to endure his company and fear for her son's safety the entire visit, and a curse considering what their bond really meant to Henry.

"Kid! Where the hell is Pan?"

There was the sound of a rustling curtains from where Henry was working on Peter Pan's present—followed by a thump to indicate her son had probably tripped over it trying to block the door or something. She wasn't supposed to go up there while Henry was making his friend's gift. Emma huffed and spun around—just narrowly avoiding smacking into the older kid who had apparently just climbed through the window and dragged snow absolutely everywhere his wet boots touched the floor.

"Happy Christmas, Emma!" He smiled at her and she rolled her eyes as she got an eyeful of his clothing. Red cloak, leather vest and pants. Did he have something against normalcy or something?

"What, are you supposed to be Father Christmas too?" she snorted at him. He tilted his head in confusion. Of course he wasn't, she mentally slapped herself. The kid didn't even know what Christmas was, from what Henry had told them at dinner.

"I brought presents!" Peter declared cheerfully as he held up a...dripping brown bag. And was it moving? "Henry tells me that's your custom?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Emma said, narrowing her eyes on the 'gifts' and trying to decipher what they were. "He's upstairs, but he should be right down. Henry, Pan is here!"

A few pitter-patters of bare feet thudding down the stairs and both boys bounded to each other happily. Emma's eyes widened as Peter ended up skidding past Henry in his wet boots—obviously unaccustomed to slick tile floors. He crashed into the tree and something skittered out of the bag. Emma yelped as it latched onto Henry's face, but Henry only laughed.

"Oy, you naughty thing!" Peter scolded the strange glowing fox creature that was wrapped around Henry's neck like a scarf. "You weren't to come out yet!" He huffed in exasperation and smiled as it nuzzled Henry's face. "It's a Truffle—cute but annoying little buggers. They're born with two tails and eat just about anything."

The Truffle leaped from its master's shoulder and ran yipping up the stairs. Henry gasped as it disappeared behind the curtain of his work station and he stumbled to catch it before it damaged anything. After a second thought, he ran back and gave his friend a brief hug. "Thanks!"

Before he even had a chance to reciprocate or even say a word, Henry had fled back upstairs. Peter stood there dumbfounded for a moment and was vaguely aware that his crash into the Christmas tree had woken Snow and Charming up. They stood there at the door with Emma, just watching him. Incredibly intimidated given the circumstances, the boy managed a timid wave to the group. Eyes narrowed at him but surprisingly Snow returned the wave with a tight, but still sincere smile.

Peter climbed the stairs to the attic and made his way cautiously to the kid's bedroom. The door was swung closed in his face almost instantaneously as Henry gave a yelp of horror and several frenzied sounds came from the room.

"Sorry about that," Henry said sheepishly as he pulled his friend in after a moment. "Just had to make sure—uh...everything was concealed good enough." He shot a glance over at a strange curtain and plopped down on the bed. Peter followed suit.

"So do you like your present?" The teen asked as he watched the Truffle climb up his friend's arm and make himself comfortable on his shoulder. "I figured you would. The only thing your hectic family is missing is a pet."

"Right," Henry grinned, "'Cause life just isn't hectic enough with everything going on—and you know—being friends with _you_." That got him a playful slap on the arm and he grinned. "It's good to see you're trying to participate in Christmas stuff, anyway. I know it's probably weird for you."

"It'd be less strange if I understood what this even was," Peter snorted. In response Henry reached under his bed and pulled out a large, dust covered box of books. He brushed them off and tossed one onto the bed. It was a worn, childish looking twenty pager and Peter picked it up.

"_Preparing In The North Pole."_ A Christmas book, by the looks of it. He paused when he saw a yellow sticker with some red text. "Grade one reading level." He gave his friend a deadpan glare. "_Really?"_

"I kept it for sentimental reasons, 'cause Mom used to read it to me every Christmas Eve." He smiled and flipped through the pages. It had sustained numerous juice stains and tears that easily showed how much the book was loved. "See this guy in the red suit? That's Santa Claus. He's this old man that lives in the North Pole. Every year he makes a list of all the good and bad kids of the world and delivers presents to them on Christmas Eve—which is tonight, by the way. He goes down the chimney and drops presents around the Christmas tree. He goes by lots of names: Santa, Saint Nicholas, Noel—in French—Father Christmas..."

"Father Christmas?"

"_What, are you supposed to be Father Christmas or something?_"

_" Every year he makes a list of all the good and bad kids of the world and delivers presents to them on Christmas Eve..."_

Peter covered his mouth to muffle the high pitched hysterical giggle that bubbled up as he thought of himself dressed in red, with a bag of gifts. "So when do we see the man then?" he asked, gazing through the window. "Sometime tonight? How even does he manage to fit down a chimney?" He spun around to scowl as Henry started snickering. "What?"

"Wait—you think it's real?" the eleven year old giggled. "It's just a story Peter, for kids. It makes Christmas more fun when you're younger. That's all."

He felt like an idiot. "Oh..."

Henry glanced at him and laughed again as his face reddened. "Okay I know it's not your fault, but you're like...the only seventeen year old I know that thought Santa was actually coming down the chimney for a second." Peter hurled a pillow at him, but the boy just laughed harder.

"Shut up! How was I supposed to know-stop laughing!"

They got into a playful tussle after that, wrestling and throwing pillows at one another until someone at the door cleared her throat. Both boys spun around to see Emma standing there with an expression that was torn between smirking and glaring.

"It's bedtime, you two." That earned a collective groan from both kids and Emma rolled her eyes. "Come on, it's almost midnight and we gotta get up early." She scowled as Henry pulled a sleeping roll out from under his bed. "And what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm...making a bed for Peter...?" Henry said meekly in the kind of tone that indicated he realized that probably wasn't an option. It wasn't.

Peter had barely climbed to his feet when he felt Emma grab his arm and pull him from the room. Even though he tried to stop it, he stifled a gasp and flinched fiercely when he felt her touch his arm.

Emma didn't say anything to indicate she saw the frightened look in his eye, but she saw it. It was a brief flicker—a haunted look of past abuse and fear and covered up so fast it could barely be seen-but she saw it. She cleared her throat and felt uncomfortable in the way she shouldn't feel with Henry's former captor.

"So yeah, bedtime," she reminded Peter. "Get downstairs." He looked like he wanted to fight her but he didn't and just followed her after throwing a final pillow at Henry. Emma glared at him and he mentally rolled his eyes. It was a pillow, not a spear.

"You take the couch," Emma ordered as she took one just the opposite of him. Well, that wasn't uncomfortable or anything. "And get some sleep because Henry is gonna be jumping on you early in the morning to get up." It didn't even dawn on her that he probably got up just as early—if not earlier.

She looked over at the cushions Peter was laying on and watched him shiver. Right, a blanket might help. It probably wouldn't look good on her as Henry's mom if she just let his best friend die of frostbite...tempting as it was.

She hurled a ton of blankets at him and he wrapped himself up in them, snuggled into the pillow.

"Sweet dreams," she said with a smile that made him raise an eyebrow...up until she ended with: "Don't forget I know how to use a gun."

He tilted his head in confusion. The word seemed familiar. "What is a g..." He caught the glint in her eye. Oh. _Oh._ Uncomfortable, he meekly wriggled further down into the covers and regarded her evil smirk fearfully. He turned onto his back and looked up at the dark ceiling.

Emma turned onto her side away from the kid and mulled over the day's events. Her head was pounding with a migraine the size of New York and it only worsened every time she thought of the hell spawn laying across from her.

Peter stretched and yawned, feeling himself starting to drift off. One question burned at the back of his head and he'd been at the apartment at night too many times not to ask it. "Are your parents going to be loud tonight?"

... Comments about her parents' sex lives-oh yeah, he was definitely a teenager. She groaned and buried her face in her pillows. "Go the _hell_ to sleep, Peter Pan."


End file.
